Dead of Night

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by Michael Stanley




  PRAISE FOR MICHAEL STANLEY

  ‘Intricate plots and a cast of regulars well worth following’ Kirkus Reviews

  ‘The African Columbo … a smart, satisfyingly complex mystery’ Entertainment Weekly

  ‘A skilfully plotted story of greed and its consequences’ Shots Mag

  ‘Tight plotting is seasoned with African culture and the uglier presence of political corruption … believable and utterly menacing’ Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine

  ‘The real appeal of the book is the easy-going voice that Michael Stanley deploys, leading the reader into the darkest of places’ Ali Karim, Strand Mystery Magazine

  ‘The plot is as unrelenting and dangerous as the arena in which the investigation twists its way’ The Cape Town Argus

  ‘Writers Michael Sears and Stanley Trollip deliver a great story set in Africa’ Cape Times

  ‘Introduces modern South Africa through the eyes of an endearing protagonist’ St Paul Pioneer Press

  ‘Intelligent, dark and compelling – among the best of today’s crime fiction’ Quentin Bates

  ‘The best book I’ve read in a very long time … a fantastic read. Brilliant!’ Louise Penny

  ‘This book took me to a world I didn’t want to leave’ R. L. Kline

  ‘In a land where ancient superstition collides head on with breakneck modernisation, Africa’s dark side is revealed. Awesome!’ Paul E. Hardisty

  ‘A rare treat to glimpse Botswana’s culture and scenery. Right from the first page I was completely hooked’ Jo Lambert

  ‘Very skillfully combines many different characters and subplots into a convincing whole’ Eurocrime

  ‘This story feels authentic and grips like glue’ Crime Thriller Hound

  ‘A different kind of crime read, intense and intelligent with huge amounts of heart. Loved it’ Liz Loves Books

  ‘The writing is a wonderful mix of colourful imagery and brooding undercurrents’ Never Imitate

  ‘The plot is gripping, distressing and totally absorbing’ Breakaway Reviewers

  ‘Creepy, spinetingling and oh so good’ Damp Pebbles

  ‘The story is well paced, and culminates in a satisfying climax’ Crime Review

  ‘Well written and full of twists and turns that worked perfectly without feeling shoehorned or pasted together’ Life of an Irish Mum

  ‘It’s a deftly written story, presenting the reader with a puzzle’ Blue Book Balloon

  ‘An absolute treat to read’ Grab This Book

  ‘This book was full of pace, suspense and has a dark undertone’ Chillers, Thrillers and Killers

  ‘Incredibly well written and thought out’ Life of a Nerdish Mum

  ‘The mystery is well assembled with just enough twists and turns to keep the story entertaining’ Books and Beyond Reviews

  ‘I found the plot to be captivating and particularly unique’ Misty Moo Book Review

  ‘Serious issues in an exotic and colourful country … What more do you need?’ Book Lover Worm Blog

  ‘An amazing read; interesting, different and original. I recommend you read it right now’ Varietats

  ‘This is a fascinating yet quite a dark novel’ The Book Trail

  ‘This book was a brilliantly entertaining and enthralling read, which kept me guessing right through until the end’ Black Books Blog

  ‘The culture in the book blankets you with its smells, its characters, its customs, and its life. It transports you, like every good book, into its world. More, please!’ Christina Phillipou

  ‘This book makes for super page-turning perfection. This is very much a story of old meets new with a timeless thread that is always constant, one of greed and corruption’ Books From Dusk Till Dawn

  ‘A brilliant read that will fly by’ Gemma’s Book Reviews

  ‘This is a well-written mystery that will entertain and intrigue you in equal measures’ Ali The Dragon Slayer

  ‘For any lovers of African detective stories, the style of writing takes you straight there’ Books, Life and Everything

  ‘One of those books that can be devoured in one sitting’ Have Books Will Read

  ‘A book that has everything I could wish for, intriguing crimes, red herrings, multiple suspects, a fascinating setting’ Hair Past A Freckle

  ‘This book grabbed me straightaway with what is possibly the most unusual and fascinating crime story I have read’ Over the Rainbow Book Review

  ‘Reminded of the classic crime novels in both its pace and construction. It took me down routes I wasn’t expecting to go’ Bloomin’ Brilliant Books

  ‘I found this book totally fascinating’ Wrong Side of Forty

  ‘The writing was excellent and exactly the style that I love to read’ Donna’s Book Blog

  ‘Stanley delivers a vigorous read with a quirky, dominant set of characters and plenty of food for thought’ Cheryl MM’s Book Blog

  ‘There is a real darkness surrounding the setting and plot, its authentic feel and captivating characters kept me enthralled in an amazing environment’ My Chestnut Reading Tree

  ‘Interesting and easy to follow with characters I warmed to straightaway’ Mrs Bloggs Books

  ‘A brilliantly written mystery, with an exotic location that I felt I got to know through the descriptive writing’ Books and Beyond Reviews

  ‘Fans of foreign mysteries with a robust main protagonist alongside an affecting murder, you’ll want to venture into this fascinating book’ The Discerning Reader

  ‘A great read that’s full of intrigue and delivers plenty of shock too’ Mumbling about Music

  ‘This is a fantastic novel; a sumptuous narrative filled with twists, turns and a rich tapestry of Botswana culture and landscape’ Segnalibro

  ‘It’s pacy, exciting, a bit uncomfortable in places but full of surprises. You definitely need to read this book’ This Crime Book

  ‘A well-paced mystery that circles around as the clues come together, the darkness of illicit practices unfurls like the smoke from a witch’s cauldron’ Trip Fiction

  ‘Exactly the type of crime fiction that I adore, combining an understanding of the cultures and beliefs of a country, all topped off with a little political intrigue to convey the sentiment of the area’ Goodreads

  ‘A fantastic read, with a tense original story that draws you in and holds you enthralled from the first to the last page’ The Library Door

  ‘New mysteries on every corner’ Licence 2 Read

  ‘Wonderfully crafted story of mystery and intrigue’ Shaz’s Book Blog

  ‘I was sucked in to the surroundings of the bush and the heat and thoroughly enjoyed learning about the culture’ The Quiet Geordie

  ‘The picture of life in Botswana is presented with affection and respect and at the same time has a thoroughly authentic feel to it’ Promoting Crime

  Dead of Night

  Michael Stanley

  To the men and women involved in rhino conservation.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Cast of Characters

  Prologue

  PART 1 Duluth, Minnesota

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  PART 2 South Africa

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chap
ter 23

  PART 3 Geneva, Switzerland

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  PART 4 Vietnam

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  PART 5 South Africa

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Cast of Characters

  Boss Man Crys Nguyen’s name for Chu Nhan, boss of smuggling gang in Ho Chi Minh City

  Chikosi, Bongani Game guide at Tshukudu. Also works with an anti-poaching team in Kruger National Park

  Chu Nhan Boss of smuggling gang in Ho Chi Minh City. Crys calls him the boss man

  Davidson, Michael A journalist who investigated rhino poaching and rhino-horn smuggling before Crys

  Dinh Official in the Vietnamese Department of Environmental Affairs

  Do Associate of Nigel Wood in Ho Chi Minh City

  Donald Associate of Søren Willandsen at End Extinction NGO in Ho Chi Minh City

  Goldsmith, Sara Editor at National Geographic magazine

  Ho Van Tan Vietnamese man who survives plane crash in the bush

  Joe Seller of rhino horn in Ho Chi Minh City, who works with the smugglers

  Le Van Tham Seller of rhino horn in Ho Chi Minh City

  Mabula, Colonel Head detective at the Giyani police station

  Malan, Anton Owner of the Tshukudu Nature Reserve, who breeds rhinos and harvests their horns

  Malan, Johannes Son of Anton Malan

  Ng Supplier of rhino horn in Saigon Port

  Ngane, Petrus Night guard at Giyani police station

  Nguyen, Crystal Minnesotan journalist of Vietnamese descent

  Phan Van Minh Translator in Ho Chi Minh City

  Pockface Crys Nguyen’s name for a thug from Mozambique involved with the rhino-horn smugglers

  van Zyl, Hennie Leader of an anti-poaching team in the Kruger National Park

  Willandsen, Søren Director of End Extinction NGO in Ho Chi Minh City

  Wood, Nigel Director of the Rhino International NGO in Geneva

  Prologue

  Michael Davidson wiped the sweat off his face, irritated that his hand was unsteady.

  He’d been following the white pickup for almost two hours. He was actually surprised that he hadn’t lost it somewhere along the way, because he’d had to keep a long way back as there was very little traffic. But the roads were straight with few major intersections – that had helped. Eventually, near a small town called Giyani, the pickup had turned onto a dirt road. After that he’d been able to drop even further back and just follow the dust train. Eventually the dust had stopped at the gate of a smallholding.

  He drove slowly past at the entrance. The pickup was nowhere in sight and had probably been driven round the back of the ramshackle house. The entrance was nothing more than a double metal farm gate that you pulled closed by hand, with a cattle grid below it. It was secured with a padlock, but it wasn’t much of a barrier.

  He was very tempted to call it a day – he’d already connected most of the links in the rhino-horn smuggling chain. But there was still the crucial connection to establish – the one between the local traffickers and the people who would smuggle the horn out of the country to Mozambique. He had to document that. And if his tipoff was correct, the transfer would happen today. This would be his one and only chance. And if he succeeded, the payoff would be big – both in money and reputation. But these were dangerous men, and they had a lot to lose.

  He drove on until he found a driveway where he could pull off and be sure his vehicle wouldn’t be seen from the road. Then he grabbed his camera and walked back to the padlocked gate. Perhaps he could just hide near it and photograph who came and went.

  But once he reached the gate, the lure of a scoop was too strong to resist. If he merely photographed a vehicle leaving the farm, what would that prove? The chain would not be joined.

  And anyway, they wouldn’t be expecting anything – he was sure they hadn’t noticed him following them. So, it wouldn’t be such a huge risk. He noted the thick bush on the farm. He could hide there if he had to.

  He wet his lips and carefully scanned his surroundings. Nothing. Quickly, he clambered over the gate, dropped to the ground and moved off the driveway into the veld. A couple of cattle on the next property raised their heads and looked at him, but there was no other response.

  He started to think about ways he could get close to the house. The problem was that the area immediately around it had been cleared. Some optimist had planted scraggy grass, but it had mostly lost the battle with the hard, dry ground. He couldn’t see anywhere near the house where he could hide safely.

  Then he heard a vehicle approaching.

  So soon?

  Davidson dropped to the ground behind a low bush, thankful for at least a little cover.

  He felt the familiar effects of an adrenaline surge. He’d done a stint covering the war in Afghanistan and, while he hadn’t enjoyed the danger, there’d been a peculiar exhilaration in knowing that every step you took might be your last. But there had also been fear. And that was what he felt now.

  A man came down the driveway and opened the gate for the vehicle that had just arrived. It headed up to the house, and he heard the man following it.

  Then the footsteps stopped.

  Michael pressed his body into the ground, annoyed with himself for not moving further into the bush. The footsteps started again.

  Were they coming closer?

  There was a snap of a twig.

  He’s not on the road anymore. Should I make a run for it?

  But the man was close and almost certainly armed. Davidson’s heart hammered.

  He lay dead still, feeling the stones and grit through his jeans, and realised that he’d picked up some thorns when he hit the ground. The back of his neck itched with sweat, and something many-legged was crawling on his arm. He forced himself to ignore it.

  The man had stopped.

  What was he doing?

  Then he heard the sound of a urine stream hitting the dust. The only muscles he moved were those on his face as he smiled involuntarily.

  At least he was out of range.

  He heard a zip being pulled up, and the footsteps resumed up the driveway. He breathed a sigh of relief.

  Shortly after, he heard voices and vehicle doors slam, but then it was all quiet again. They’d all gone into the house.

  He lifted his head and looked around cautiously, but there was no sign of either vehicle. He decided the main entrance to the building must be on the other side.

  He scrambled to his feet and rapidly worked his way further into the bush and round the house, trying to keep low and out of sight of any of the windows. After a few minutes, he could see the door with the pickup and the new vehicle parked in front of it. The problem was that from where he was, he wouldn’t be able to see what was happening or take pictures, and if he tried to get much closer, he’d be exposed. He needed elevation.

  He spotted a large sausage tree between him and the vehicles. He’d have preferred to be closer, but then further away was safer. The tree would have to do.

  Hoping that the men were all engaged inside with their transaction and that they hadn’t left a lookout, he worked his way forwards, keeping the tree between him and the house. There were no sounds except those of the bush – the trill of insects, the harsh cackles of green wood-hoopoes. Reaching the tree, he stood up and realised he’d lucked out. From here he actually had a good view, and from up the tree he’d be able to see the front entrance and the vehicles clearly. He’d just have to climb high enough to be hidden by the large leaves and huge sa
usage-shaped fruits.

  There was a convenient branch not too high off the ground, but it was dead. He’d have to use it to lever himself up, and if it broke it would attract attention. He clenched his teeth and reached up for it, trying to grab smaller side branches at the same time to distribute his weight. He could feel that the dead branch was brittle, felt it protest … felt it crack. But it held long enough for him to lift himself into the canopy. His haste caused some rustling, and the dead branch had made some noise. He held his breath, his heart racing again. There were still only the bush sounds.

  He checked his camera and blew some dust particles off the lens. Then he got some pictures of the new vehicle – a beaten-up panel van – including its number plate, which indicated that it was from Mozambique. Just as he suspected. On the side was painted ‘Maputo Electrical’ with a lightning logo.

  Then he waited.

  It took a while, but at last two men – Asian by the look of them – emerged from the house, each with a holdall, obviously heavy. One of the white men he’d been following came out after them.

  Where was the other man? Was he still in the house?

  Michael slowly lifted his camera and rested the lens on a branch.

  It wasn’t long before his patience was rewarded in a way he couldn’t have dared hope. To open the back door of the van, one of the men had to drop his holdall – and it wasn’t fastened. For a few seconds, Davidson could see into the bag quite clearly through his zoom lens.

  It was stuffed with rhino horns.

  The man picked up the bag and tossed it into the back of the van, and his partner did the same.

  They weren’t even bothering to hide them.

  As he zoomed out to get a wider shot, the missing second white man walked into the viewfinder. He was at the side of the house. Michael froze, his heart thumping. The man was scanning with a pair of binoculars.

  In a few moments, he would be focused on the sausage tree.

  PART 1

  Duluth, Minnesota

  Chapter 1

  Crys caught Kirsten, the leader, fifty metres before the crest of the hill. At the top, she was five metres ahead. It was all going to hinge on the last downhill.

 

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